Friday, February 21, 2003

"I never had drinks like I did when I was with my parents. "Jesus, did anybody?" Reporting live (sort of) from day two of the five-day bacchanalia that is my parents' visit from Texas.  I have acquired some dark circles under my eyes that give me the aspect of an improbably rubenesque Weimar girl, a cold sore, and an eternal slight headache.  Last night we began our night, or attempted to, rather, at the Library Bar in the Hudson Hotel, the fancy-dan hotel where my parents and my mother's friend Jerri and her husband John are staying.  In order to get a table at the Library Bar, you must buy an entire bottle of booze.  The cheapest bottle was $250.  We stayed just about long enough to giggle and say "horseshit," and walked out, me quivering with an attack of toxic irritation.  To cure me we went downtown, and had a drink at the tile bar, Eric's and my favorite -- gimlets for $2.75, Willie on the juke box -- before heading down to our late-night reservation at Prune. The kitchen at Prune is just the back end of a cramped storefront space.  When we walked in, we were led down to the only big table they have -- a kidney shaped arrangement in a basement that is part inner sanctum, part boiler room.  As were walking down the stairs I saw that the owner and chef was in the kitchen -- she smiled at me!  How I know what the owner/ chef of Prune looks like, I cannot tell, I suppose it is the inner foodie in me rearing it's ugly head.  Anyway, I mentioned it to my mother -- I even knew the chef's name, what's wrong with me?! -- and by the time we were well seated Jerri's husband John, who is a hell of a guy and a pushy little bastard, had shanghaied Gabrielle Hamilton, owner and chef of Prune and author of a weekly food column for the New York Times, into coming down and explaining the specials, plus pointing what on the menu she REALLY liked.  It was amazing -- shit like that doesn't happen to me.  She might have been a bit of a snot, but she was gracious enough to us, considering she just suffered a major arm-twisting at John's hands, and she really, REALLY likes food. We ate illegal raw milk cheese and radishes with butter and salt and roast beef marrow on toast and braised lamb shoulder and turnips, cauliflower and brussels sprouts and sardines with almonds and fennel (I think) and about thirty thousand desserts, including honeycomb with ricotta, and about fifty thousand cocktails and no salad at all. I even got the beef marrow for free because it was late in coming.  It was fabulous. I think I'm going to puke.     8:05:37 AM    comment []